


Rimshot

by sir



Category: The Nice Guys (2016)
Genre: M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Underwear Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8021062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir/pseuds/sir
Summary: A short smut fic about appreciating Jackson Healy's big butt.





	Rimshot

The summer of '78 was a scorcher. Downtown Los Angeles in particular took the brunt of the heatwave, with cars packed tightly on the freeways and bustling streets no doubt contributing to the stifling heat. Over in Hollywood, in a crappy apartment that doubled as _The Nice Guys Agency_ , two private detectives rode out the temperature together.

March took Healy by base of his cock, flattening his tongue against it and curling the tip against the sensitive underside of his head, before taking him into his mouth in entirety. The pair lay on the kitchen floor, Healy's head resting near an open refrigerator in a desperate attempt to cool down. The air conditioner hadn't worked since they arrived, and though it was an afterthought in California's bearable winter climate, it had become public enemy number one to the new owners.

Healy struggled for leverage, his hands slick with sweat against the tiled floor as March worked a fevered magic on his cock. Holland was manic from June onwards, something about the heat that set him off and made him constantly horny, showing an uncharacteristic diligence to making Healy orgasm. He was in his element here, knelt between the sticky heat of Jackson's heavy thighs, thumb and forefinger wrapped around Healy's balls, tugging on them as drool caked the man's shaft. Holland moved his hand over Jackson's soaked cock, gathering enough skin to pull his foreskin back over. He swirled his tongue inside then pulled the skin into his mouth, chewing playfully and watching his lover eagle-eyed, for every little flex of mouth or movement under his eyelids. It was easy to make Healy unravel, and he liked that.

Holland palmed his crotch as he sucked, enjoying the feeling of Healy's boxers against his length. They were a little big for him, swung low on his hips and held up only by his erection. Though he wasn't familiar with Healy's scent, it was a turn on to rub the fabric over himself. He figured Jackson smelled like cigars, booze and a heady, intense tang of testosterone. He would often pull Healy's bloated, full balls into his mouth, desperately trying to discern that maleness through the taste.

Leaning back, Holland examined his work. He tugged up his boxers and stroked his mustache, eyes flicking from Healy's face to between his legs. He nodded in response to whatever was proposed in his head, then gently pressing the underside of Healy's thighs, pushing his knees toward his stomach.

“Woah – hey. What are you doin'?” Healy asked, snapping out of his daze.

“I'm gonna lick your asshole.” March replied, confidently, as if he'd been given perception from God himself.

“You- no.”

“What? Why not? You lick mine all the time. May as well put a fuckin' Pup 'n' Taco sign out front.” March scoffed.

“That's different.”

Healy wasn't the most confident fuck in California. Evidently there was a point in his life where he was, but it had faded. March assumed that his wife leaving him for his father had something to do with that. They were happily married now - somewhere in Syracuse, maybe. Since then, Healy had gotten visibly older. Grey hair was sprouting all over, and he'd put on weight. A large, distinct scar stretched from his right armpit down his arm from where he'd taken shotgun shrapnel in a diner brawl.

March thought he was the sexiest guy in the world.

“Healy.” He said firmly.

“March.” 

“Jackson.”

March crawled between Healy's legs, flopping down on top of him and wriggling against the larger man, pressing a kiss to his grumpy face. March ran his fingers through Healy's hair, nuzzling his nose into his lover's soft, scruffy jawline, sweat dripping off March's lean frame onto Healy's barrel chest. March's nuzzling had picked a bead of sweat off Healy's neck, which made him smile as it kissed it off the tip of the man's nose. The two looked at each other for a moment, enjoying the silence.

“I got a big nose.” March said, finally speaking up.

“March.” 

“No no. I've decided. I'm getting plastic surgery. Can I take in a picture of you? Look at that cute little thing-”

“March.” Healy repeated, his smile betraying the feigned exasperation.

“I'm so pointy. Blegh.”

“For Christ's sake.” Healy laughed, rubbing his face. He hooked his hands on the underside of his knees and pulled his legs up. “A minute, then. One minute. And if I hate it -”

“I'll stop. Yes. Definitely.”

“I was thinking I'd just crush your head, but sure.”

March gave Healy a big, happy smooch and bounced back onto his knees, clapping his hands together in triumph. Healy watched his smug grin disappear behind his belly.

March's dick had never been harder. It occurred to him to sift through memories of his past loves and clarify if that statement was actually true, but all the blood is rushing to his cock and he'd suddenly forgotten how to think, or what thinking was. Healy had a large ass, not bubble by any extent of the imagination, unless that bubble had been created by those big hula-hoop size circus things. The name escaped him at the moment. It was big and masculine and parting Healy's cheeks had him sweating noticeably harder than the weather.

He nuzzled into the sweaty heat of Healy's ass, moving his mustache around to gather the taste. He could Healy above him, exhaling slowly, lips parted in an 'o'. His nose found the puckered pink before his mouth and March's breathing hitched at the same time as Healy. March's fingers dug deeper into Healy's fleshy ass and he licked a stripe over the tender skin surrounding the hole, followed by a series of sucked kisses.

“Oh...” Healy murmured, the first noise he'd made since March began his excursion, though not the last.

Each lick brought a new grunt of pleasure, causing March's cock to jump in his boxers. They were soaked through, now, precum and sweat causing dark stains in the bright blue fabric. March curled his tongue, swirling it around Healy's pink entrance before pressing inside. Healy jerked, throwing his head back with a low, guttural moan.

March's head popped up beside Healy's hard prick Jackson could tell that he was smiling from the way his eyes crinkled.

“You moaned.”

“I _grunted_.” Healy replied, slightly indignant, mostly breathless.

“You moaned like a whore. You fuckin' love this.”

“March, so help me God, if you don't get back down there...”

March was grinning from ear to ear.

“Actually I had another idea.” He said, pressing a kiss to the sole of Healy's foot.

Carefully, he moved Healy onto his knees, his ass high in the air and face downwards, feeling slightly cooler on the tiled floor. March spread him open again, this time able to see everything That delicious, parted hole, the vast expanse of Healy's ass, and all the sexy white stretch marks creeping up from his thighs. March traced the stripes with his fingernails then ducked down to nuzzle Healy's now painfully full balls before licking his way back to his partner's asshole.

Healy's whining grew louder with each lash of March's tongue, the relentless, messy make-out session causing saliva to run his tracks down Healy's thick thighs. March parted Healy's hole as much as he could with his fingers, and bobbed his head, darting his tongue in and out. Healy was delirious, saying something that came out as gibberish. His eyes closed tightly as his belly heaved, signalling March to stroke firm and hard on his cock. Healy's toes curled and his eyes blurred, watering as his orgasm hit. Cum sprayed from his flexing, reddened cock, spattering March's hand and the floor below. Healy came like a cannon - long, hard spurts that painted the tiles beneath him, harder than March had ever seen him cum before. His whole body shook as he rode out the last of his orgasm.

Knowing he had been the one to make Healy orgasm so hard was more than March needed. He yanked down his boxers and stood up as the cum began to fly, shooting jets of hot seed over Healy's ass and back. March doubled over, one hand on Healy's back, exhausted.

“Fuckin' hell.” He murmured, voice slightly hoarse from yelling.

March had a quip for this but he'd tell Healy later, when either of them could form words.


End file.
